


Hey Duff

by GothBunny



Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [7]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Fluff, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Letters, M/M, Smut, So much kissing, well more notes than letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothBunny/pseuds/GothBunny
Summary: Someone keeps leaving Duff little love notes. He's not upset, he'd just like to know who the fuck it is. Especially since they've found where he hides his beer.No one is allowed to know where he hides his beer.Even if they're really nice and probably hot.
Series: My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585123
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	Hey Duff

The first note Duff found tucked between the head of his bed- better known as a cheap mattress shoved in a corner- and the wall. He had woken up on the floor next to the mattress when he found it, something that was starting to happen more frequently now that more of his nights were ending in flopping down in the general area of the bed and passing out in a drunken stupor. The note was written on the back of one of their flyers, in clumsy black sharpie that marched haphazardly across the page. The handwriting wasn't the neatest- Duff was feeling generous- and he was still a little drunk from the night before, so he folded it back up along the creases and tucked it into his pocket to read it later, then promptly fell asleep.

Duff found the second note tucked between the strings on his bass shortly before the band was scheduled to go on stage for a small pay-to-play gig. He still hadn’t read the first note, in all honesty he had forgotten about it, but he was less drunk this time so the handwriting was easier to decipher. 

> **_Hey Duff_ **
> 
> **_I’m not really sure if you’ll find this before a practice or a show, but either way, good luck on your bass playing!_ **

Like the first one, the note was written on a scrap piece of paper, this time a sheet of notebook paper that appeared to have had all the previous pencil marks erased off of it before the message was written. Resolving to go back and read the first note later, Duff tucked the second note into his pocket, checked to make sure his bass was in tune, then followed his bandmates onstage. Of course, any good show must be followed up with good booze, so he didn’t get around to reading the first note until the following afternoon. 

> **_Duff_ **
> 
> **_I just wanted to let you know that you’re a really sweet guy and if it weren’t your knowledge about the music business and shit, I don’t think the band would be where it is. I mean fuck, you organized a whole fucking tour for us man! Plus, you always look super hot. I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or not, but between the hair and the leather, man. Fucking sexy as hell. Anyway, just wanted to make sure you were having a great day. Best wishes._ **

Duff wasn’t sure what to think after reading that letter. Sure, he had known dudes who messed around with other dudes, even had had guys come onto him at parties. He spent his teen years living in Seattle with a “fuck the establishment” mentality, of course he’d know guys who messed around with other dudes. But getting offers to mess around with other dudes because they’re curious and want to piss off The Man was pretty different from one of your bandmates leaving you little anonymous love notes. Especially considering that none of his bandmates knew about the offers to mess around with other dudes part. That was probably why they had left the notes anonymous, they had no way of knowing that he wouldn’t react by punching them in the face. All this thinking made his head hurt however, so he decided to go to sleep, managing to make it onto the bed this time.

The third note was hidden away in his secret stash of beer. Now he really wanted to know who it was, not because he wanted to know which member of his band was leaving him love letters, but because he wanted to know which member of his band had figured out where he hid his beer. This beer was one of his best-guarded secrets and he wanted to know who the hell had infiltrated his hiding place. The note didn’t have any words this time, instead it was a rather well-drawn cartoon that Duff found hilarious. Of course, Duff was mildly drunk, so he probably would have found any cartoon at least a little funny, but this one was downright hysterical. 

The following notes progressed with little indication of who was writing them. They were hidden in a variety of places, under piles of his laundry, tucked in the kitchen cabinets- even though they all shared an apartment he was the only one who knew how to cook and thusly the only one who would ever think to open the cupboard to get out a frying pan, and a couple more were hidden with his bass, usually before shows. The notes came in a variety of drawings and encouraging messages, featuring compliments about everything from his ability to play the bass to the way he used eyeliner. One note stood out in particular, a paragraph dedicated to his ability to cook pasta.

> **_Hey Duff_ **
> 
> **_Just wanted to thank you for making that pasta the other night. I don’t know where the hell you learned to make that shit but it was amazing. Seriously, that sauce was so creamy and delicious man. How the fuck do you DO that? I can’t even make ramen successfully and you’re here just like, whipping up heaven on a plate. And it’s like, just enough spice that it has flavor but not so much that it burns your fucking mouth off. Seriously, thanks for making dinner all the time, I know you’re busy with the band and work and shit. Just thought I’d let you know that your work is really appreciated._ **

The pasta wasn’t actually that hard to make, he just mixed a shit ton of butter and cream cheese with a jar of pasta sauce and then added some torn up pieces of chicken or meatballs, depending on what was available on clearance. But after stressful hours at his job, he was in fact the only member of Guns N’ Roses currently with a job- unless Izzy’s drug dealing was considered a job, stressful hours waiting around for Axl to show up at band practices, stressful hours trying to at least keep the apartment inhabitable, and all the other little things that were actively working to make his life terrible, getting compliments on his meager cooking abilities was nice. Whoever was writing these notes was really thoughtful and sweet. If only he knew who the hell it was.

Let the record show that Duff cared for each and every one of his bandmates and considered them to be like family. And like family, some of them appeared to be trying their absolute hardest to make his life a living hell. Steven had gotten rightfully pissed at Axl and had said some things rather impulsively again, Axl lost his temper again, Steven and Axl had gotten into an argument again, and Duff had stepped in to try and break them up. Again. Of course stepping in to break up any argument that involved Axl meant that Axl was now pissed off at you too, which was always enjoyable. Of course, Duff knew that Axl probably didn’t mean everything he said in a boiling rage, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. At least Axl and Steven weren’t screaming at each other anymore. It was mostly worth it to have his intelligence and music skills brutally insulted if it meant his bandmates got along. He managed to keep up a relatively straight face until practice ended, successfully hiding the effect Axl’s words had on him until he returned home, face planting on his mattress and hiding under a blanket. 

Duff found the next note the following morning, stuffed under his door. 

> **_Duff_ **
> 
> **_Don't believe everything Axl says, okay? I know that you can get stuck. in your own head sometimes, but I want you to remember that whatever bad shit comes out of Axl's mouth, or anyone's mouth really, I promise to always be here for you. And don't worry about being stupid or not contributing to the band or whatever bullshit Axl said. You're so talented and smart, I bet that no matter what you do, you'll be great at it._ **

Whoever was writing these notes was quickly becoming Duff's favorite person of all time. He only wished he knew who it was so he could thank them. The last person to take the time to comfort him and make sure he was alright was his mom, and that was at least six or seven years ago when he had moved out. He felt bad that he couldn't return the favor to whoever was sending the notes. Three possible culprits didn't actually narrow it down that much.

The following note came around a week later. The note itself didn't say much, just another set of compliments, these focusing on the bass line he had come up with for their latest song and the appearance of his ass in leather pants. The drawing on the back was what made his breath catch. The subject of the artwork wasn't particularly extraordinary, three blooming roses sticking out of an empty bottle, but the detail was exquisite. The shadows of pencil marks that ghosted over the delicate petals and brought out the vibrancy of the flowers, the carefully crafted textures that brought out reflections in the glass bottle and the edges of the leaves, the way the artist had used contrast to bring out the life in the roses; whoever drew this was incredibly talented, and had spent two hours at least. The drawing was captioned "I don't have any money to buy you real flowers so I drew you a few instead, hope you like them". Duff wondered who in their right mind would think of buying someone flowers when they could draw like that. Not wanting to ruin or lose the picture, Duff carefully put it in with the other notes, all hidden in a neat stack next to his beer.

Duff didn’t get any more hints as to who the note writer was until four days later. He and the rest of the band had gathered around their table at the Whiskey, ready to take advantage of cheap happy hour drinks and the plethora of cute chicks gathered at the bar- Steven’s words, not his. The table wasn’t actually theirs either, they just gathered there so often that it had come to be accepted as their table and no one else sat there. Steven was currently rambling on about some girl he had seen waiting at the bar, claiming that she had “the nicest smile and the biggest tits he had ever seen”. The drummer was trying to persuade Izzy that her friend would be perfect for him, but Izzy wasn’t having it. Duff had to agree with Izzy on that one. The last time Steven had picked up someone at a bar, the chick had turned out to have a serious case of gonorrhea. Not that Duff didn’t appreciate a wet pussy, he just preferred them when they were wet due to arousal instead of due to being infected with bacteria.

Shuddering at the memories of STI encounters past, Duff turned his attention back to the general conversation. Realizing that Izzy was more interested in the alcohol in front of him than the idea of getting laid, Steven had turned his attention to Slash. Duff was paying just enough attention to catch Steven say to him: “Hey Slasher, aren’t you seeing a new chick?”

“Huh?” Slash appeared confused, gazing at the rest of them through slightly squinted eyes and thick hair covering the better half of his face.

“You’ve found yourself a girlfriend Slash? Do you think you could maybe move into her place so I can have the bedroom to myself?” 

Slash’s face scrunched up at Axl’s question. “I have no idea what you fuckers are talking about. If you want your own room Axl, why don’t you get a girlfriend?”

“Come on Slash, no need to be shy. Tell us who she is.” 

Steven made puppy eyes at Slash. They didn’t work. “There is no girl, Steven.”

“Yes there is, and you know it. Don’t lie to your friend’s Slash, it’s not nice.”

“Steven. There is no one I currently have my eye on. If that changes I will let you know. Until then, quit it.” Slash looked like he was starting to get uncomfortable. Steven, being fairly drunk, did not appear to notice.

“But there is a girl! We both know it! What, are you worried one of us is gonna try and fuck her or something?” 

“Just shut up already, okay Steven?”

“Who the hell have you been writing little notes to then?”

If Duff were a smarter man, he might have caught on to the fact that perhaps he was the new chick Slash was allegedly banging. Alas, he was too caught up in the conversation to put the two together. So when Slash glanced worriedly at him before stating that he hadn’t been writing notes to anyone, Duff not only didn’t realize what the glance meant, he didn’t even notice it.

“Steven, I think you’ve had enough to drink. And maybe enough of my cocaine. You’re getting delusional.” Izzy leaned over and tried to grab the bottle out of Steven’s hand, but Steven leaned back quickly, dodging the rhythm guitarist. “I’m not delusional Izzy. Come on Slash, you spent three hours and change last week, hunched over a drawing of fucking roses. Who’s the chick?”

It was only at the mention of roses that it dawned on Duff. Slash was already standing up though, climbing over Axl to get out of the booth and then storming away towards the exit. The rest of them stared silently after him, Steven sulking into his bottle of liquor. Finally, Axl shrugged. “Guess we weren’t supposed to know about the chick.”

“Guess not,” Izzy replied, and drinking continued.

Duff waited twelve minutes before standing up to leave, wanting to check on Slash but not wanting it to be obvious. He told the other three that he was going to go get another beer, walked right past the bar and slipped out the front door, heading back towards the apartment.

A short walk later, Duff found Slash lying on his bed, hiding under a blanket. Carefully lying down next to him, while still giving Slash his space in case he wanted it, Duff stared at the ceiling and waited. A minute passed before Slash finally spoke up.

“You probably hate me now don’t you.” His voice was muffled slightly by the blanket.

Duff rolled over to face him. “No, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you Slash. Just surprised.”

“Yeah, surprised with hatred.”

“I’m not mad at you Slash. I’m not grossed out. I’m not gonna try and kick you out of the band. I’m not gonna do any of the nasty things you’ve been imagining, alright? I really appreciated those notes you left. They brightened my day every time I would find one.”

“Promise?” Slash’s head peaked out from under the blanket.

“Promise. Wanna move to my room? It’s way smaller but there’s no chance of anyone barging in on us.”

There were a million thoughts going through his head when Duff pushed open the door to his room. The first was that his floor was probably covered in a light coating of dirty laundry. Then there was the problem of what they were gonna do when they reached the bed. 

Slash didn't seem to notice Duff's rising panic, instead choosing to strip down to his boxers and then flop face-first onto Duff's bed. Hesitantly, Duff followed suit, tugging his shirt over his head, the two of them struggling briefly to find a comfortable way they could both fit on the tiny mattress. Slash fell asleep quickly, mumbling a muffled goodnight and giving Duff a tired peck on the lips. Duff himself stayed up a little while after that, the thoughts and ideas swirling around in his mind keeping him awake.

Eventually though, he must have fallen asleep, because Duff awoke the next morning to the feeling of something struggling to get out of his grip. If he had been more awake, he might have realized that the thing in his arms was, in fact, Slash, and not some weirdly alive pillow. However, he was not fully awake, and therefore he instead tugged the struggling object closer against himself, pressing his face into it and grumbling. The thing shifted again, almost fully pulling away from him this time, and Duff pushed himself up a bit, tugging it back. Getting back into a comfortable position, he was about to drift off again when it spoke. “Duff, c’mon man, let go of me.”

“Wha…?” Still half-asleep, Duff reached out to brush the hair out of his face and rub his eyes, allowing whatever he had been holding to fully break away from him.

“You were holding onto me pretty tightly man.” 

Slash was sitting next to him, in his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Oh right, last night had happened. “Oh, sorry.”

“No no, it’s fine.” Slash was playing with a loose thread on Duff’s blanket, his face mostly hidden by his hair. “I kinda uh, liked it actually. I just wasn’t sure if you would appreciate it when you woke up.”

He met Duff’s gaze, expression a nervous smile. Duff rubbed at his face, trying to wake up a bit more before he spoke again. The vision of Slash sitting wearing nothing but his underwear was mildly distracting. “Why don’t you lie back down with me then? Ya know, since you liked it and all.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Slash hesitantly lay back down next to Duff, leaving around five inches of space between them. 

Without the alcohol coursing through the both of them, Slash seemed quieter and a lot more shy than he had the night before. Duff tried to coax him closer, feeling awkward lying in the same bed as someone with a deliberate half-foot of space between them. “Dude, you call that cuddling? C’mere.” 

Still hesitating, Slash inched closer, finally settling down and using Duff’s chest as a pillow. “Sorry for being all, ya know, shy and stuff. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not sure what I’m doing either.” Slash pulled himself up so he was more firmly on top of Duff, laying down on his stomach and resting his chin on the backs of his hands, the ends of his curly hair tickling against Duff’s sides. Duff used his own forearms to prop his head up a bit so he could get a better look at Slash. “Hey, can I kiss you?”

Kissing led to touching, and touching led to Duff’s fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of Slash’s boxers. Slash’s eyes were squeezed shut, breath coming out in funny little gasping noises. As Duff was leaning in, intending to kiss him again, Slash suddenly started grinding against him, throwing Duff off-target and causing the kiss to end up on his nose. Now very horny, Duff tried to slide his hands a little further into Slash’s boxers, but the movement caused Slash to pull back and sit up. Sensing his touch had been unwelcome, Duff pulled his hands back, apologizing.

“No no no, it’s okay Duff, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just, um, I don’t think I’m ready for that. Uh…” Slash trailed off, rubbing his face with his palms, like his blush was just painted on and if he rubbed at his cheeks hard enough it would make it disappear.

Still feeling guilty, Duff sat up, pulling Slash into what he hoped was a comforting hug. “That’s totally fine Saulie, I get it. Is there anything you, uh, are ready for?” He didn’t want to scare Slash away but he also did kinda want to get off now that he was hard enough to break glass.

Slash tried to bury his face into Duff’s armpit. “Um, I dunno, maybe we could just, uh, jerk each other off or something?”

“Yeah, okay.” Duff reached his hand into Slash’s boxers, pushing them down around his hips so that he could have better access to his dick, wrapping a reasonably firm grip around its length and swiping a thumb over the head, using the beads of pre-cum as lube. “Like that?”

“Fuck, yeah, that feels great.” Slash scooted back a bit so he could get his own hand down Duff’s pants. Shit, Slash gave good handjobs. Duff rewarded him with another kiss, using one hand to cup his face and the other hand to speed up his strokes.

Duff was already annoyingly close, Slash was really hot and cumming too fast was already a problem he struggled with. He tried to hold it off, but a few short moments later he knew there was no stopping it. “Fuck, Saulie. Ugh, fuck.”

Slash didn’t laugh at him or act disgusted at how he came in under five minutes. Instead, he leaned over and kissed him, pulling away briefly to grab an abandoned t-shirt from the floor. He carefully cleaned up Duff and his hand, giving Duff a moment to catch his breath before going back to focus on getting Slash off. 

As it turned out, Slash had been pretty close too, and it only took around a minute before they were both curled up on the bed, sated and happy. Duff leaned in to steal another kiss, running his fingers through Slash’s curls and laughing a bit when his hands got stuck. “Saulie, help.”

“What?” Apparently, Slash did not realize Duff’s hands were caught in his hair.

“I’m stuck.” Duff tried to gently remove his hands from Slash’s curls, but accidentally pulled a bit and Slash winced. “Sorry, my fingers are caught in your hair.”

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me then, huh?” Slash’s nervous smile was back.

“What if I wanna be stuck with you?” 

“Oh, uh…” Slash’s nose turned very pink. “Well…”

Duff couldn’t help himself, giving Slash a quick kiss on the nose. “But seriously, I’m gonna need my hands back. Help me untangle them?”

“Yeah, okay.”


End file.
